Chance O' The Prize
by scarlotti
Summary: Telling her was never really the question. Dealing with how she'll respond – well, that's something else entirely. - Tag/Introspective look at THE N/A Scene from 2.11. Title from A Death in the Dessert by Robert Browning.


**Title: Our Chance O' The Prize**

**Pairing: N/A**

**Rating: K+(?) **_**(**__mild language reference__**)**_

_**Tag/Introspective look at a Nathan/Audrey scene from 2.11**_

**Authors Note**: I'm sure this has been done before, _but I HAD TO _because in this moment, Lucas Bryant and Emily Rose displayed more emotion and depth than most couples do in a season….of course it needed elaboration. This may be a one-shot, but I'm thinking about throwing in one from Audrey's perspective for fun. Enjoy! (and review, maybe ;)?)

Oh, and italic sentences are Nathan's thoughts ;).

**Disclaimer: ** Haven and all its awesomeness belong to SyFy and its excellent cast. I own nothing but the mistakes…..unfortunately, those are _all _mine.

.O.O.O.O.

Telling her was never really the question.

Nathan had known from the beginning that this would change things.

_Lucy Ripley._

When the call comes in, he suddenly realizes that it has the potential to turn his world upside-down.

He's not exactly sure exactly when or how Audrey Parker has become so much of his world.

But he knows that she needs to _know_, that not knowing is tearing her apart.

"I know who you are. I do."

She's looking at him like she desperately wants to believe him.

He's stumbling over the right words to _make_ her believe, make her see all of the things that make her so precisely her.

_Her tenacious refusal to turn a blind eye, even at the expense of her own safety._

_Her intelligence._

_The way she actually cares about the people she helps._

_The way she forgets names at the drop of a hat._

_The way she never lets him push her away or shut her out._

_Her smile._

_The fact that checking his coffee is her way of "protecting" him, even though a burnt tongue doesn't bother him in the slightest._

_The way she _gets_ him._

_The way she knows that he goes out of his way not to make her immunity to his trouble an issue, and she touches him anyway._

_The way she trusts him._

_Haven without Audrey is frightening._

_Him without Audrey is something that he doesn't want to think about. He hasn't really put a name to the reason why, because then he'll have to deal with it on an entirely different level._

But he can't put any of that into words, not really.

Telling her was never really the question.

Dealing with how she'll respond – well, that's something else entirely.

The expression on her face when he hands her the address, alone, is worth it. Surprise and relief; he doesn't even have time to react before her arms are around him and his neck and the side of his face are alive with _her_ – soft wisps of hair, cool skin, warm breath.

He hadn't allowed himself to think about this and he tells himself that this is "Thank You" and not "Good bye."

He realizes his response stutters at her touch and that he's still sporting a goofy smile as she let's go, but he can't bring himself to care.

"I hope you get some answers, hope you come back and tell me what they are."

She says she will like it never occurred to her _not_ to. She seems genuinely surprised that the alternative had even crossed his mind. Nathan tries not to let the worry show on his face. She sees it anyway.

"You're not just my partner, either."

When she repeats his words back to him he tries not to label his reaction as "giddy" - "giddy" is eight years old and first crush.

He's not eight.

Crush doesn't begin to describe this.

He's pretty sure he's grinning like a fool again. Still doesn't care.

"I'll be here."

"Yeah."

She says it with weight, like she was going to say something else instead, and her eyes are searching his face. It's almost like….

But the "almost" is gone as soon as he notices it, and she brushes past him. He tries not to let himself think it's the last time, tries not to think that even if she might _want _to come back something might prevent her. Some_one_ might prevent her. He tries not to think that Lucy Ripley might have wanted to come back once, too.

He wants to say something, but nothing comes to mind except….

_Wait._

_Don't._

He knows neither are fair. When he hears her stop, he thinks she might be coming back with a question. About Lucy. About the investigation. The memory of her hair on his cheek is still fresh. His pose is steady as she closes the distance – hands in pockets – waiting for her to pull up in front of him.

She's not stopping.

She pulls him into the kiss hard.

_She tastes like coffee._

It's an odd thought to have when his senses are short circuiting in every way possible. His brain processes it in pieces.

Her hands are on his jaws – he knows the feel of them from her occasional touches, but this time it's different, _newer_, as she physically holds him in place.

_Like she needs to worry about him moving._

Her breath is warm.

A few strands of her hair, where the breeze carries it, play feather-light on his forehead and nose.

Her lips…

_Her lips._

Firm.

Soft.

Warm.

Insistent.

Like he couldn't have dreamt, even if he'd let himself dream it.

Anxious – like she's almost unsure of how he'll respond, _if_ he'll respond.

The small part of him that's still lucid is screaming for him to respond. When her tongue brushes his bottom lip, he stops all coherent thought for a moment.

He's drunk on her.

Finally, his brain kicks into gear and his arms reach out for her, to pull her close.

She's halfway to the Bronco by the time he opens his eyes.

_Damn._

There should be something else, but right now it's all he can wrap his mind around.

_You're not just my partner. Not anymore._

And maybe this…

When she does get back, he's done wasting time.

.O.O.O.O.

"_For life, with all it yields of joy and woe_  
_And hope and fear,—believe the aged friend—_  
_Is just our chance o' the prize of learning love…"_

_~ Robert Browning_


End file.
